Bad Dreams
by J0j2
Summary: Kirk's lack of sleep has been effecting everyone and Spock and McCoy are worried. But when Bad Dreams aren't just subconscious and are coming from something unknown and mysterious, how do they stop it before it's too late? Friendship K/S/M nonslash.
1. What's wrong, they ask

Bad Dreams

It's always unusual when the captain barks orders at ensigns and yeomans who only made the slightest mistake, when any attempt at asking why he did this, he recoils defensively and tells you you're relieved of duty. And quite frankly, this behavior was worrying his companions on the star ship.

But I suppose I should start from the beginning.

It was first shift, star date 4984.8, and captain Kirk was late for it. Now this isn't very typical because the Captain always attempts to be on time, and when he is late, he apologizes. This particular morning, his face seemed hot and red and almost….tear stained? No, not the Captain. But nonetheless, he was half an hour late – an outrageous, lengthy time to be tardy for such a high ranking officer. He had rough wrinkles under his eyes, his eyes glazed and with a pinkish hue.

"Captain, is there a reason for your previous absence?" Spock asked Kirk with his usual, logical tone, wondering why this could be.

"Nothing Mister Spock….just get back to your station." The Captain growled.

"It would quite obviously be something if it made you 36 minutes and 12 seconds late for duty." Spock raised an eyebrow.

"I said it's none of your business, Spock! Now leave me alone!"

"It is effecting your performance and your role in this crew, therefore it is my business." He resolved calmly, adding fuel he wasn't aware of to the Kirk's burning rage.

"Get back to your station! That's an order!" he yelled. Spock seemed alarmed at the sudden outburst, but obeyed orders and continued a scan of some strange radar that came inside the enterprise last night, in a pattern similar to brainwaves. It was strange, but no one thought much of it.

It was several hours of Spock's fine tuned Vulcan hearing picking up Jim's tirades of anger at various crewmembers, unjustly thrown at unsuspecting ensigns. Each different flare-up was equally noted by the man with the pointed ears who sat quietly in his work space, listening to the Captain. At first, Spock thought it might have just been the day, some minor thing that upset him.

But the day passed and it got worse.

Finally, after his shift, he quickly made his way down to sickbay.

He entered with the swiftness in which he normally walked in, but with a certain urgency. "Doctor McCoy?" he called, to seek out the physician.

"In here." Came the rough, old southern voice from a room beyond.

Spock stepped into the office, where McCoy sat at a desk, looking at the door where the Vulcan stood.

"Yes, Mr. Spock? You coming to sickbay, what an occasion." He chuckled a little and raised his attention. "What brings you here?"

"The captain's behavior this morning on the bridge." McCoy raised an eyebrow attentively.

"What happened?" Bones got up and stepped towards Spock.

"Well, as a first account, he was approximately 30 minutes late for duty and I had asked him what the case was that he would miss such a large time slot of work for. He told me to go back to my work, yet I persisted. After this, he yelled for me to stop asking such questions and ordered me to continue my task and make no further inquiries." Spock explained, the Doctor nodding, a concerned expression dancing across his face.

"Anything else?"

"He also sent yeoman Copulman off the bridge for bringing cold coffee, intoned on Mr. Scott should not be 'lolligagging' when he was simply getting a PADD, and that the ensign who was navigating was asking him why he set a certain course, he relieved him of duty." McCoy stared at him.

"Sounds like he's in a terrible mood."

"I do concur."

"Did this effect how he was working, not just how he was acting?"

"Negative. I would have relieved him if I thought him not fit for duty."

"Spock, you should have sent him to sickbay."

"I am aware of protocol, Doctor, but I was not entirely sure he was mentally ill."

"Mentally ill? He told someone to leave because his slow roast was cold! Does that sound like Jim to you?"

"I do not believe disgruntled actions over a container of lukewarm beverage is cause to be out of commission."

"But that's not something our captain would do, Spock!" he said in a 'Are you with me or against me?' tone.

"No, it is not in his usual patterns."

"I'll call him in for a couple tests and see if he's healthy or not. If it's something worrying you, it's worrying me." Spock didn't seem to want to argue that worrying was a human condition. Instead, he merely glanced at the doctor and a flash of concernment went in and out of his eyes.

"Thank you Doctor." He said quietly before leaving.

It was a couple hours in between the meeting of the science officer and the medical officer to the call made to the bridge for the Captain to report to sickbay, to Spock's relief. There had been an injured man in the engine room and it had required full attention.

"McCoy to bridge."

"Kirk here." The captain sighed.

"Jim, Would you and Mr. Spock report to medical bay." McCoy's voice came out of the box in the chair.

" Bones, we're really busy up here…" he said through half clenched teeth.

"But I'm responsible for your health. I've been told you may not be fit for duty."

"By who?" he raised his voice.

"I'm not going to name names. Please report to sickbay, McCoy out." Kirk cast a glance over to Spock.

"Come on." And made his way to the elevator.

Doctor McCoy was waiting by the bio beds for his two friends to enter. "Jim, you made it." He smiled a little.

"Why am I here?" the Captain said dully with a tint of anger lost in his voice, ruining the smile that was about to form on the Doctor's face.

"Because Jim, you've done some things we don't think are in line for you." Kirk glared at him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong!" he shouted.

"Well, I'll see if the tests show any differently."

"I don't need any tests." Jim snarled.

"I'm your physician and it's necessary you obey my orders if it involves your health and the health of this ship!" Bones used the tone that inquired, 'you don't mess with me. Shut up and do what I say.' That no nonsense, don't argue kind of voice. And it worked.

A tricorder whirred in front of the face of Captain Kirk, and a physical was in order. Soon after there were a couple more basic mental tests and it was seemingly over.

"I'm perfectly healthy, Doctor." He grumbled.

"No, you didn't get your required eight hours of sleep last night, your eyesight is slightly lower than usual, and you brain scan readings show you are at least 80 percent more irritable than any other day. The normal effects of not getting enough sleep."

All of a sudden, a burst of fear seemed to flicker through Jim's tired eyes, knowing what was coming.

"I recommend you go to your cabin and get some rest."

"No, Bones there are things I need to do on the bridge…" he said, trying to get away from it, nervousness lining his voice.

"Quite the contrary Captain. You are off duty and there is no current emergency on board." The Vulcan objected. McCoy and Spock exchanged glances after.

"Jim, you need to get sleep. It's effecting everyone, and we're concerned." Bones looked at his friend, sleep deprived and annoyed but still the same captain Kirk who the crew would follow to the ends of the galaxy and back again. "Please."

Kirk sighed. "Okay…" he said, feeling defeated, trying to hide an anxiety that was growing and growing.

"May I accompany you, Captain?" Spock asked gingery.

"No." he said firmly, then realized his mistake. "No…sorry. I'd like to be alone, Spock." The captain said quietly and left sickbay.

Hope you like it! It's the beginning to this story, already on the second chapter. It's looking like a great friendship fic right now. Like to write? is a good place to share your stuff! Please R&R for this story!


	2. Dreams strangle you

A cold chill ran down my spine as I entered the elevator. Maybe it was that I just left sickbay, and my two best friends. Maybe it was that I just openly yelled at Spock. Maybe it was that I was to be confined to my quarters to get sleep…I think that's the biggest reason.

As I step inside my quarters, my bed is at the other end of the room and I don't want to get in to it. I feel afraid. That kind of bone numbing fear that completely captures your body. It's so daunting and I'm just so tired. The bags under my eyes have bags! But I can't go back…what if I have the same dream? If I call myself unfit for duty, they'll ask why and if I keep staying on duty, I'll snap. It was bad enough I screamed at Spock…

I'm feeling a cold isolation…last night…I didn't know I could cry so hard. In fact, it scares me that I did. I'm supposed to be the captain of a starship. Not an emotional wreck.

Like the rest of the night, my mind turns over the dream. Oh god, how dare I call it I dream. A nightmare is the god of understatements. I keep trying to find an explanation for such visions, for not being afraid. I keep telling myself it's just a dream, but it feels so real. So horrifically, disgustingly real. It ends that I'm in my quarters. I wake up in that same place and its so real.

But I can't tell them what. It's too absurd to explain, too weird and I just…can't bring myself to do it. If I explained it, words would probably fail me, like they did in the nightmare, and…I have this insane feeling…like it's going to happen. I don't understand how my head could've come up with something this awful.

I hate the English language.

Awful? What kind of word is that to describe the feeling of absolute and sheer aloneness, and guilt so strong, I don't even deserve _death. _That's to merciful a punishment. I deserve the torture that I'm watching – no, worse. Self loathing so strong it engulfs my mind and so much fear, nothing could ever make me who I am again. So much fear…I want to die. But if I do…then I can't save them…

Slowly my thoughts churn and I feel myself drifting into unconsciousness. I'm trying to escape, but a cage…I can feel it's cold steel…wraps around me and I can't get out. Once again, I'm captive in a prison.

And suddenly, I'm looking at myself. The other me is grinning impishly. He's outside of the cage and his hand is clenched into a fist and he opens up his palm to reveal a bite sized enterprise. He shakes it once, I hear murmur that sounds like fifty billion ants with tiny voices, quietly. He shakes it again and I hear the screams of these ants. He keeps on shaking it and I hear blood curdling cries that grow in sound all around me. I try so hard to snatch it from him, but my doppelganger simply moves it away.

"Ah ah ah. You have to beg for it." The screams around me get louder. Some are more definable. I recognize them. A cry from yeoman Rand, a sparse yell from Scotty, a shriek from Uhura, a howl from Bones, and something that made the hair on my neck stand on end, the cry of my Vulcan companion, Spock.

I get on my knees and shake the bars of my cage, pleading them to be safe. Please…please let them be safe. The other me laughs. "Like a puppy." He says, cruelty lacing his voice. He shakes the enterprise once again, more yelps of my friends fill my head.

I'm past the point that I need my dignity. I do whatever he says, it's embarrassing, as the tears roll down my face…

"Give…me….my…friends…" I manage to say. My mirror looks at the ship model, then at me, my helpless face, and back to his palm.

"Not yet." He smiles sweetly. Disgustingly sweet.

All of the sudden, There's Uhura, Chekov and Sulu. "Uhura! Chekov! Sulu!" I yell. They seem oblivious.

"They can't hear you, Jimmy."

I don't even care he calls me by such an informal name. "What do I need to do?" I plead, my voice swelling in hot, steaming tendrils.

"Just watch." He says, his grin intensifying.

Suddenly, they all have those shock collars from when we were on triskelion. There's a flash in his eyes and their screams drown out the wails of the enterprise. It's so loud…

"Let go of them! They'll die!" I choke out, trying to reach out to them. My captor squeezes his eyes shut and scowls in distaste.

"Oh, these friends of yours, they're so very loud." He snaps and they are silent. But still squirming for breath, being zapped of life by the second. I'm trying so hard to stop him with my words but I can't speak because of all the pain of suffering I'm feeling in my chest. I try to heave myself against the bars and break the metal.

"Well, you're doing a fine job! This cage is almost broken!" He says angrily. Just then Scotty appears. "It seems your engineer is a fine choice for fixing this up for us." I call his name and he comes over. I'm desperate for him to recognize me…but his expression is so blank, it drains my face of color. He has a toolbox and begins working on the cage. He tightens bolts. Replaces bars. And makes the cage smaller. Now it is stronger and harder to break throw. I have to kneel to fit.

"Alright, do you want your ship back?" he asks, as if he really wants to know.

I nod, desperate.

"It is a fine ship," he examines it. "I see why you'd want it."

"Give it to me…"

"Not just yet, my friend." The way he says 'Friend' makes me sick to my stomach.

Then I see Bones and Spock. My two closest friends in the world. Closer than family. More than brothers. All of a sudden I feel like I can conquer this. That with them here, I can do anything. But that feeling drowns and dies when I see them stand next to him.

Spock, McCoy and Me. That was the way it was. And I see it. But that's not me.

He scowls at them. "On your knees." They do not protest. Normally I'd expect Bones to raise an eyebrow. 'Excuse me?' he'd say in the don't boss me tone. Or Spock to say, 'I do not believe you are fit for duty, Captain.' But they sit, and obediently wait, looking up into the opposite me's eyes.

"Don't listen to him!" I yell. "He's a liar! A fake! Bones! Spock! Stop!" I yell. It scares me to see them like this…without free will.

He seems to be enjoying this. A lot. I want to throw up. I want to die. "These are your friends, Jimmy?"

"I am the captain of the enterprise and you will address me as such." I try to regain confidence.

"Oh, I'm sorry, _captain._" He laughs a little, like I'm a child. "Are these your friends?"

"Yes…" I say, wondering if I should have answered.

"Friends? These are officers." He chuckled. "No, _lower _ranking officers! Tell me, do they have friendship for you?"

I stare at him, deciding this wouldn't be a good topic to pursue with an evil spirit such as this one. I'm disgusted…and scared.

"Do they?" he asked through a clenched teeth grin. Suddenly, there was I knife at McCoy's throat. My stomach leapt into my throat.

"Yes!" I yelled. The knife was lowered.

"See? It's so easy to save lives. And to destroy them." He waved his hand and the knife gently slid across Spock's hand, green blood dripped out and stained the pearly white floor. "You do that everyday, don't you _Captain?_ But, these are your friends! But no they're not. They're tools." Spock and McCoy began to move around, into crawling positions. The other me sat on their backs.

"Get off of them." I growled. He rolls his eyes and grins as the knife begins to float over. "No!" I gasp.

"As I was saying…they're nothing but tools."

"They are not tools. They are my friends." Fear let my voice fall and no anger or confidence backed it up.

"Friends. Alright then." He shook the ship one more time. Screams filled the room once again. "These friends, are they close to you?"

"yes." I respond, afraid of the slowly rising knife that lowers as I answer.

"Are they noble?"

"Yes."

"Do you want your ship back?"

"Yes."

"Then order them to their deaths." My blood runs cold. My vision is blurring into thick shapes and they're barely visible.

"What?" I stammer.

"Order them to their deaths!" he says it like it's my mother telling me to clean my room. Or my teacher telling me class is over. How do I answer to a question like that. If I don't do it, he'll kill them. But I answer with another question anyway.

"Or what?" my voice comes out as a squeak.

"Or I'll torture them with what they fear most. And you'll get to watch!" He says it so cheerfully. I feel like I want death. No, I'd welcome it. I want it so badly…but then I can't save them.

I can't do anything to save the people who I am closest to. The two friends that would do anything for me…who I'd do anything _for. _

I hear Spock's voice. "Captain, it is logical to obtain the ship. My life shall be sacrificed for the enterprise."

And McCoy's voice agreeing. "Yes…Jim. Please." But I won't have this.

I start screaming their names. "Bones! Spock!" I repeat this over and over again, until I go mute with sobs. My throat has bile in it, disgusting, foul tastes occupy my tongue. Hot, acid like tears are streaming down my face…feelings worse than anything I've ever felt and could be described are racking my body. "Bones! Bones! Spock! Spock!" I'm yelling for them…calling for them…

Then I see the other me look around with surprise, and suddenly this scene is in my room. He disappears. A fade effect sets on the screaming of the enterprise crewmembers and I'm alone in my quarters. I blink and I'm still alone. Just not in the cage anymore…the only trace that it was just a dream.

More on the way! Hope your liking it! This is going to take a turn for the worst in a few chapters with the turn of events…but I CAN'T SPOIL IT! You'll just have to wait. *Laughs evily*


	3. To save them

You have to understand, this didn't happen last night.

The captain's dream ended suddenly. Last night it faded at the end. After the horrible terror, allow him to cope with it, alone in his bed in the middle of the night, petrified of going back to sleep. Now he was alone in his quarters, but the sound of feet were outside.

But there was no sign this was a dream though. It faded to the same room, and when he woke up, it wasn't much different, except for the fact he was no longer in the cage.

He realized that he had the same tears he did in the nightmare on his face. It spooked him and he felt like something was breathing down his neck. He was still crying, shaking, actually, out of this fear from the dream. It rolled through his body as an uninvited guest. No, not a guest. A parasite. Trespassing. But he couldn't make it leave.

As the slow, terrible, painful feeling of remembering this dream rushed into his head, as two very familiar faces ran in through the door. "Jim!" came the voice of the doctor, an anxious, and worried voice that felt reassuring to hear. But Kirk was petrified. He couldn't move. Didn't want to call out to them out of fear for their lives. What if the other him was still there? Watching? Waiting?

He just shivered, quaking, terrified, crying.

It was the cry of a little kid, scared out of his wits. This wasn't just being afraid. This was like feeling hatred, seeing anger, hearing disgust, tasting sadness and smelling fear. He couldn't move. He was paralyzed inside it.

"Jim!" McCoy came around the bend, Spock closely behind. "What happened?" he said, coming over to his bedside where he was sitting up, hugging his knees

Kirk didn't answer. He stared at Spock and Bones, a certain relief flooding over him. They were there. They weren't mindless robots that the other him had brainwashed. These were his friends. And they were real and alive. But he still couldn't bring himself to speak. There was a deep ingrained fear, slowly intertwining with his being. He didn't want to say the wrong thing. Condemn his companions' lives…his ship…

Instead, he just stared into their eyes, McCoy's concerned eyes, as true as they were blue, Spock's logical, but deep brown eyes in widespread unease, both pairs there for him and would help him. Wouldn't abandon him.

"Jim? What happened? Are you okay?" Bones asked quietly and sat down on the bed. He motioned for Spock to do the same. Kirk remained silent, still afraid. He wouldn't move his lips.

"I believe he's in shock." Spock observed and said softly.

"From…a dream?" McCoy wondered. Tears continued to stain and drop down the face of the ever confident captain. It was strange, seeing him in this state. Such a strong, dominant man, like a child. Like a small, defenseless child.

Kirk sat there, breathing heavily but in timed breathes, silent tears inching their way down.

"Jim. We are here." Spock confirmed. He used a strong tone, but so very gentle and soft as he spoke.

"We won't let anything happen to you." Bones put a protective arm around the back of the captain, who now shut his eyes and his face contorted to a terrible, frightened expression.

But Kirk still didn't move his lips. What if this was just another cruel mirage? That this was all part of the dream? This his double was just waiting for him to slip up and then he'd kill them. Make him order them their deaths. Watch them be tortured. And he didn't want to see that. Maybe that dream was real. Oh my god if it was real…

Bones and Spock didn't really know what to do. They knew their friend was scared, and…crying. This must be something horrific. "Could this be what caused the lack of sleep last night?" Spock asked McCoy.

"Maybe, but I'm a doctor, not a physiatrist." He said, looking at his sobbing comrade. "We were told you were yelling for us. Someone heard it coming from your corridor and reported it. But we're here now." he reassured.

But Kirk wouldn't speak. Jim was so afraid that the other Kirk would come back…nothing was safe, there was no sanctuary. Because it might have been real. He was calling their names in the nightmare, he was calling it in real life….

"We're here now." Now. Now they were here. They weren't there before. Before in that wasteland where people died at his will. That terrible place from his mind. His mind created that…

"You are awake now Captain." Cold logic. It felt good on the heat of his face, hearing Spock's tone that was always right. He was awake. This was no vision or continuation of the nightmare. Maybe it was safe after all.

He opened his eyes and looked up at his two closest friends in the universe. They looked back at him in worry and hope. But maybe these friends were a lie. Maybe this was a sequel to the bad dream. And even if he was awake, if he fell asleep again, if they were here and his tears and yells were real… "Please…leave…I don't want him to hurt you…leave." He said. Leave?

"Jim, nobody's here. No one will hurt you here."

"True, we are alone in this room." Spock agreed.

"No. Leave. I don't want him to hurt _you_. Leave. Please, please leave!" he was shaking. More tears began to blur his vision.

"It's okay. That was just a dream." McCoy said, rubbing his friends back, trying to soothe him. A growing anxiety was stirring in Jim's body.

"He's going to come! Bones, Spock I don't want him to harm you. Leave now!" It was upsetting.

"We're not leaving your side." Bones said adamantly, but Spock was in question.

"Jim?" The Vulcan asked gently.

They locked eyes for a minute. In an unspoken way of saying 'yes?', Spock continued. "What happened in the dream you had?"

There was a long, silent pause.

"Not now, Spock. Just…Please, leave!" he was shaking now. The feel of the doctor's soft, surgeon hands was comforting, and in truth he didn't want to be alone. Didn't want them to leave. A part of him cried out in despair, 'No! Don't leave me! Please _don't _leave me!' but would they be safe? If something happened and it was his fault? He felt enough grief in…in a nightmare. But that wasn't real. What if it was real?

"Jim…." McCoy's voice trailed off.

He wanted to lean into him, to feel protected…but he needed to know they were protected first. "Leave. Just leave. That's an order." Spock and Bones exchanged looks.

"If you need anything, please call." Bones said after a short silence. He removed his hand from the captain's shuddering side, and got up. The two looked back at their friend and left.


	4. Help me help him

"I'm telling you, there's something wrong about this, Spock!" There had been a meeting between the science officer and the medical officer about the captain's condition. Spock had many tasks to complete, such as analyzing a strange communications feed onboard the enterprise, but claimed the captain's health was partially his responsibility, even though there was no star fleet qualification for this, there was practically nothing Bones could do to keep himself from inquiring that this was defiantly an act of friendship and 'didn't Vulcans find friendship an emotion, and emotions are illogical?' But right now they were past that and were going back and forth on what could possibly be wrong with James Kirk.

"What is it then, Doctor? You have no proof this is anything other than ordinary subconscious mind activity." Spock responded calmly.

"Well for a fact, have you ever heard of or seen Jim Kirk _cry_?" McCoy jabbed, pacing around sickbay and finally taking a seat on a biobed.

"No, I have not." Spock admitted. This was weird. But, still, strange occurrences did happen. "But there is currently no point on figuring why it was when we do not currently even know what it _is._"

"Well, we know it's a bad dream." Bones said, resting his elbow on his knee and putting his cheek in his palm.

"Yes, true. But what exactly was this nightmare about?"

"Jim told us to leave, he sounded scared. Worried. And almost angry that we weren't going. He said he didn't want us to get hurt. Who was it that he was so afraid of?" He cocked his head a little bit as he looked at the Vulcan.

"Possibly a powerful entity in his dream, or maybe something controlling him. If he was fully aware he was awake, he might be aware of something physical."

"But if he's not fully awake?"

"Then he might still think this is part of the dream, and that the 'person' is still there."

"Do you think that…well, never mind." Bones looked at his feet.

"What, Doctor?"

"No, it's really not anything."

"Your tone suggests differently."

"Well, I was going to say, do you s'pose that…we were in the dream?"

"It's not a bad theory, in fact, highly likely." Bones nodded as a response.

"I'm really worried…" the doctor said. "But did you notice how he didn't speak until his only request was for us to leave?"

"Yes, I noticed his silence, which is unusual for him." Spock mused.

"I just think it's strange that Jim would be…crying over a dream. What could be that bad? I'm telling you, we've had nothing that would be extremely traumatic lately."

"He has told me that he gets bad dreams after a crewmember dies."

"Me too. He's told me about his dreams, but nothing that's ever upset him this much…"

There was a pause. Both of them shared the same worry and care for their dear friend, and it was extremely discomforting to see such a competent man rendered so…vulnerable.

"I have a theory…" Spock said, looking off into the white washed walls of sickbay. "But it's not very substantial or well thought out."

"I can't imagine something your brain's cooked up being half baked."

"Why, thank you doctor." He responded, sounding please with himself. McCoy rolled his eyes in response.

"So what's the theory before your head gets too big?"

"There have been a series of strange alien transmissions in the pattern of brainwaves being sent onboard the enterprise from an undisclosed location. The readings are vague and we are not entirely sure what they are."

"When were they sent?"

"They started last night, and continued through it, and stopped in the morning. They again continued when you sent the Captain to sleep. This is why I suspect there is some correlation."

"So…something's sending those brainwaves to him?"

"Correct. There are actually two. Ones being transmitted by the captain and ones being received by the captain. The ones being transmitted have the exact same pattern as Jim's brainwaves, where as the ones being received are slightly altered, my hypothesis for this is that since they are of artificial creation, they do not perfectly match and seem to be created to be received by him."

"You said this was half baked? Spock, I think you hit the nail on the head."

"I see no logic on pounding a primitive human construction device on it's top…why would you state this?"

"It's called a figure of speech." Bones sighed. Vulcans.  
"further more, if we can stop these from being intercepted by Jim, we may be able to stop these bad dreams, but we're still not sure if they do actually have anything to do with him. It could be just a coincidence."

"A very large coincidence, wouldn't you say, Spock?"

"Yes but a test needs to be run."

"What would we test?"

"Well, the effect of them on the captain and when they begin and stop during his sleep." Bones stared at him.

"He's totally traumatized! You expect him to willingly go through this again? He wouldn't answer anything we said, much less agree to a hair-brain scheme like this!" he yelled.

"Well this may be the only way."

"Not the only way, Spock."

Spock raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"There are always those…those Vulcan mind melds. Couldn't you erase those images? Or at least talk to him?" Bones asked.

Spock paused and thought. "Doctor, mind melds are extremely dangerous…and if he doesn't agree to it then it might be violating. On Vulcan, to meld minds without permission is known as a mind rape. It is highly discouraged and can be punishable by death."

"But if he agrees, we can at least see what it is that was bothering him so much! Spock, we need to ask!" McCoy was raising his voice without acknowledging it.

"I'm…afraid it will be a violation."

"Damn it Spock, its for his safety!" he was beginning to shout and suddenly realized this. He flinched a little. "Oh god…" he paused and looked Spock in the eyes. "I'm sorry…I shouldn't have yelled. Mind melds are delicate things…if you don't want to do it, I suppose there are different ways." He felt a deep regret. Why would he yell? Why did his anger always have to get the better of him?

"I will ask. I will go through with it if he decides it is okay." Spock replied.

"Thanks." Bones said quietly. "But until then?"

"Until then, I do not believe he is fit for duty. I will arrange a time as soon as possible."

"Should I come?"

"If something goes wrong, I suppose it would be best to have a physician."

"Okay, good."

"I will also try to identify the source of the waves. Would you assist me with it?" Spock asked.

"Why Mr. Spock," Bones commented, putting on a mock surprise face, "you asking _me _for help?" He looked at the Vulcan officer. "I'd love to."

"Alright, I do suggest we get started now."

"Good."

The doctor and the science officer worked and worked for a good slot of time. The brainwaves being transmitted were very, curiously similar to Kirk's. They compared the possible technology to any species that might have that type of technological advances or brain power. There were some possible answers, but none really seemed to fit. And why?

The hours ticked away.

If anyone's actually reading this, please review! More to come. I'm sorry for my horrendous editing. I haven't found time to proof these. Sorry.


	5. They become Impatient

"_How is the research going?"_

"_The Human male, my lord?" _

"_Yes. Have you found out enough to drain the conclusion?"_

"_No, there is still a small portion left to do, my lord." _

"_Alright, but the Agriol'v'tu are becoming impatient. You know how they crave this certain emotion. Emotion, what an interesting concept."_

"_Hush you fool, or they'll think we're eating it ourselves!"_

"_Do not use that tone with me… but you are right. this particular human has much of it. More so than any other we've decided to drain."_

"_Feed off of is the correct term. To drain is to take away. We simple eat it."_

"_Correct. Correct."_

"_His two friends, the ones he calls 'Spock' and 'Bones'?-"_

"_Yes, what about them? Wait, is not 'Bones' objects in human anatomy?"_

"_Never mind that factor - that is his code, clearly. But, they both generate most of this emotion from the human male. Strange, the one called Spock is not human, yet he cares for him."_

"_Cares? What does that mean?"_

"_It means to look after, to-"_

"_Stop talking, you're beginning to sound like a human yourself."_

"_Sorry my lord."_

"_Nonetheless, we shall continue. But this time, before we create our conclusion, get _all _the information. And the Agriol'v'tu are getting impatient. They will soon drink our thelli if we do not finish this in due time."_

"_All in due time, my lord."_

_..._

Alright, I had an interesting idea for this chapter. *Grins impishly* What a great word, impishly. Lol. Anyway, keep reading, thanks for the reviews! I shall keep at it!


	6. One another  True

The captain stayed in his quarters. When food was delivered, he barely ate, except for the coffee which he drank with vigor. It would keep him awake…away from the horrible visions. But he was alone in his quarters. He didn't want to be alone…so badly he didn't want to be alone – but it was something he'd have to do to protect them. It would make him feel safer if he knew they were safer. In the dream, he didn't do anything but hurt them. If they weren't there, what could he do to hurt them? Nothing, that's what.

Bones and Spock stayed up, searching out and eliminating factors with no luck. They were trying to design a tracker that could stretch the length of the galaxy and send back radio waves that could be converted to computer response, that could signal where it came from. But in this time, they worried about the captain, in his quarters, curled up like a little kid…crying…This lead to observing the captain's sleep patterns and if he was sleeping. A day had passed in the time they had done so much research and neither Spock nor McCoy had gotten rest, and apparently, the captain had also not.

"Dr. McCoy, Mr. Spock?" Came Christine Chappel's voice.

"Yes, nurse?" McCoy answered, his voice drawling in the slightest.

"You both have been at this for 17 hours."

"17 hours, 12 minutes and 47 seconds, actually, nurse." Spock said.

"That's a very long time for both of you to be up and I recommend you get sleep."

"Not now, Chris." Bones grumbled.

"Let me rephrase that, I order you to get sleep."

"Nurse, my Vulcan physiology allows me to stay awake with perfect readings for fourteen days at the least. I am in perfect health." Spock justified.

Chris considered this. "Yes, Spock I guess you're right, but Leonard, you need sleep."

"Now listen here-"

"Badly."

"Chris, this is-"

"As your head nurse and assistant CMO, your health is _my _responsibility and I order you to rest."

"But-"

"No buts, doctor. Do you wish me to assist me to your quarters?"

"You sound like my mother…No, I can find it myself, thank you." McCoy said curtly, giving a scowl to Nurse Chappel.

"Doctor, may I speak to you?" Spock asked.

"Yes, Spock, come with me."

"You'd better not be staying awake in there."

"I won't. I'm an officer, not a five year old."

"Sometimes you act like one." She muttered.

"What was that, nurse?"

"Nothing," a small grin crossed her face. "Nothing."

McCoy sighed, "Spock, remind me again why I promoted her to head nurse?" he said as Spock came up by his side and they walked to the doctor's quarters.

"What was it you wished to discuss?"

"When did you want to do the mind meld?" Bones asked.

"After your leave, probably after you wake up." Spock said. "In the meantime I will continue working."

"Good." He paused. "I'm really worried about Jim."

"I too am concerned of the condition of the Captain." He spoke and didn't meet McCoy's eyes. He seemed ashamed.

"Spock, being worried about someone isn't something to be embarrassed about." The Vulcan continued to walk, and didn't respond. "He's your best friend – my best friend too – and it's only natural." Bones looked at the man with the pointed ears who, besides Jim, was the closest person to him.

They walked in to the elevator in silence. Finally, Spock decided to break it. "As a Vulcan – I am not supposed to feel this way over another being. It's…illogical."

"No it's not illogical. You have to remember, you're half human whether you like it or not." The doctor tried to use a softer tone. "and it's not a bad thing, to care for someone."

"I never stated it was a bad thing, just illogical to feel in such…strong emotion. It interacts and sometimes tampers with performance and duty." Spock said, hands clasped gently behind his back.

"But you need to accept it. That doesn't mean you need to show it." They got off the elevator. "And emotion is something that drives the human race. Look at where we are now." Bones smiled and looked at his companion.

"Emotion is also something that banes the human race. Vulcans have created a relatively flawless society. Peaceful and thoughtful and progressing. Humans still continue to have wars even after so many years of evolution. Your world war three, the idea of hatred or sadness that most humans can feel, the government offered a chance to relieve that and gave troops drugs that brainwashed them. One of humanity's downfalls and a horrific period in time that was surprisingly recent."

"True, but we learn from our mistakes. And tell me, how are you supposed to understand and fully enjoy life if you can't feel the wind on your face, or the splash of the sea on your feet and really appreciate it?"

"We do appreciate it, but it is…more controlled." Spock responded quietly.

"Then appreciate your human side. This is Jim we're talking about. And it's fine to feel this way, it's expected, it's normal." Bones paused as they got to the door of his quarters. "I'm sure he'd feel the same way if it was you." He said quietly.

There was a pause before McCoy spoke again. "Keep researching while I'm asleep, okay?"

"Yes Doctor." Spock nodded. "Is there anything else?"

"No…I'm fine. Just…just tired." He yawned largely.

"It would seem so."

"Alright, I'm good from here Spock, just continue working, might want to call Scotty in to help with it." And with that, Spock left down the corridor in to the elevator where he disappeared to go to sickbay.

When he was alone, McCoy sat down at his bed and opened a composition notebook he kept on his nightstand, and took the ballpoint pen he liked to use. Writing might be old fashioned, but it was nicer to open up a book then open up a computer hard drive just to view a sheet of paper.

Normally he'd journal, but sometimes when he was in the mood he'd just write various things. This was what filled up the page today.

What happens when

We ask you what's wrong?

You've exhausted the excuse 'I'm tired'

Even though when you lie awake at night

Your eyes just won't shut

What happens when

We ask you if you're okay?

You'd say yes and we'd go away

But there's something inside of you

That you can't let go to

What happens when

We ask you why?

Answering I don't know, you know you lie

Because you know exactly

Why your afraid.

What happens when

We want to help?

You won't let us help you

And it scares us…

So why are you afraid?

Please let us help.

…

Hope you liked this chapter, that poem was actually something I wrote a long time before I wrote this story, one of my journal entries based on something that happened in my life. I relate to a lot of themes in star trek, and apparently even fanfictions! Writing more, keep reading!


	7. Reality is Actuality

Spock at his bedside, McCoy woke up. "How long was I asleep?"

"Approximately 8 hours."

"What?" Bones jumped out of bed. "You let me sleep that long?"

"It was required by nurse Chappel."

"Oh she's askin' for it." McCoy muttered, putting on his uniform medical t-shirt over his black one he had slept in. "Come on! What are you waiting for? Let's get to Jim's room. "

"We are still not sure he'll accept."

"I know, but we might as well ask."

"Did you have any such dreams as the captain?" Spock asked.

"No. I had a strange dream, but I don't think spaghetti and penguins are what qualifies for Jim's category of nightmare." Spock stared at him and decided to drop the topic.

So, the two officers in blue shirts walked their way to the captain's quarters, lower ranking officers looked at them, the two determined men.

Like any group of people kept together in a space, there was gossip. Lots of it, in fact. The captain currently was the spectacle of it. 'Did you hear about the Captain?' They'd say. 'I heard that he was ill with something.' 'No, he's not sick, he just had a severe injury.' 'And, you forgot, one of the doctor's hypos made him delirious.'

The crew was a good crew. Reliable, smart and brave, but still gossip spread ship-wide and the large amount of time spent between Spock and McCoy was part of the talk. The fights and bickering between the two officers was legendary, both of them renowned as the Captain's best friends which is why they never got into much trouble for so many informalities. They crew was wondering what could possibly draw the two together for so much time, and most were sure that the captain's strange state part of it.

It had been a little over a day that the captain hadn't been on duty, which was extremely unusual. And even though the bridge crew was among his closest friends, it was also known some of them would tell about the events that happened that not every average ensign Joe and ordinary yeoman Sue could know.

Chekov and Sulu were both well known for their information on these matters and were normally a pretty reliable source. They were in a Recreation room, playing a game of cards at this moment in time, answering some questions about the situation.

"Scotty said that McCoy and Spock had been talking about the captain, and were working on some radar tracking device. He was helping a little bit." Mr. Sulu said, as he bet ten.

"But why has the captain be out of commission for so long? That's really strange for him." A security officer named Jack Litsen asked.

"Something about a lack of sleep. None of us are really sure." Chekov said. "Although, zat morning he was on duty, he was wery wery ill tempered." He drew a card.

Sulu took a sip of his Saki, a Japanese liquor, and began coughing.

"Hikaru, are you okay?" an ensign asked.

He seemed like he was choking. Suddenly, Pavel also began gasping for breath. Within about ten seconds, Chekov was almost passed out and they were both on the ground, squirming…trying to get air into their lungs.

"Oh my god! Quick! Someone call sickbay! Now!"

Mr. Litsen ran over to the com as fast as he could and slammed his body against it as he pressed the button. "Litsen to sickbay – Please come in!"

"Nurse Chappel here."

"Emergency on Rec Room 3, Deck 9! Please send for help!" He was yelling into the box on the wall.

"We have another emergency on the bridge…but we'll be right there, Chappel out!"

In about a minute or so there was a full team of nurses armed with hyposprays and stretchers. They shoved through the growing crowd around Sulu and Chekov.

Sulu and Chekov were beginning to lose consciousness. They gave them respiration masks until their breathing was at least there, forcing the air into their lungs. Finally, after five agonizingly slow minutes of two crewmembers' lives in jeopardy, they seemed to be alive.

"Vut happened?" Chekov asked, dazedly.

"I was drinking my Saki, and then I could breathe."

"Neizer could I…and it felt like zere were shocks going all through my body…" The Russian ensign put his head in his hand. "Ohhh…" he moaned quietly.

"Me too. I feel like there are a thousand pushpins that just got pulled out of my body." Sulu said quietly.

"Well, you both couldn't breathe…the same thing happened on the bridge with Uhura in the exact same time." Chekov and Sulu exchanged glances. "You two should go to sickbay and have Dr. McCoy look at this." Chappel said, looking at the readings on the medical tricorder.

"Yes Ma'am." Chekov said, still feeling dizzy.

A quiet knock was heard if you were on the inside of Captain Kirk's bedroom. Where it came from? It came from the two timid, caring friends that waited patiently for their captain and companion's word to come in.

It didn't come.

A little muttering from outside would have been heard, the inflection slightly southern on one voice, the other very low and factual.

There was another knock. This one louder.

And the isolated soul inside, behind these doors heard it. Normally the nurses and yeomen who gave him his meals didn't knock, they just came and went. But he wouldn't respond.

The lack of sleep was eating away at him. First, his muscles declined in almost total fatigue, then his face that had this strange little limp from his forehead and cheeks that seemed to melt. And then his eyes had become glossy and pink. Like someone had put glue all over them and the glue had never dried.

His face looked like a wreck, from the different tones of fluctuating reds and pinks that came from being deeply afraid, depressed, tear stained and alone.

He didn't want to go back to that horrific dream land. Where Scotty did any task, Chekov, Sulu and Uhura were strangled, and Bones and Spock were just like robots or…dare he say…pets….And all for this…this imposter!

A cold chill ran down his spine as the same feeling that it was all too real swept over his deflated muscles and bones. That some of this was actually going to happen. That all of it would. And the price would be his closest friend's lives. He would not let them near him if it meant saving them. If he thought they couldn't be safe in the real world, they would at least be safe in his mind if he knew he wasn't near them, posing a threat to them.

Another knock.

More mumbling, this time louder.

Another wait and another answer that wasn't ever going to come to invite them in. Kirk lay on his bed, sitting upright against the wall, hugging his pillow which was wet from so many tears.

Finally, the knocks stopped and the sound of Spock and McCoy's footsteps filled the room. They saw Jim and Spock mentally winced, Bones physically twitched. Spock flashed his tricorder. "He has not been sleeping this entire time, Doctor."

McCoy kind of wanted to argue that he was the doctor and he'd be taking the readings, but this was not the time when their friend was in trouble.

"Jim?" the captain blinked, his hair totally ruffled and frizzy. He hid his head in the pillow and recoiled his knees to his chest so he was curled up in a fetus position.

"Jim…we want to help you." Spock said quietly.

He shook. He'd almost killed them in his dream…he didn't like them here, so close to a killer. Didn't want them here, so close and near someone who destroyed lives. And who's to say his dream…wasn't even a dream? It felt all too real, that's for sure.

"Would you allow me to do a mind meld with you?" Spock hovered hesitantly over the bed as McCoy sat down next to Jim, face in pillow.

There was a long silence as Kirk thought over this.

There were two sides to this argument. He saw the other him in this situation. The other him said no, in fact, he looked a little afraid, himself! 'No! Don't let these people in…' then a little bit of something like…inspiration? Crossed his face. 'If you let them inside,' he said, preying off of his fear, confidence growing like weeds, 'then they might get hurt. They'll be pulled in.'

Then, there was his true self. 'Let them in. You've been alone far too long,' he told himself, 'Spock knows what he's doing…and I need help. So bad.' And in this matter, he had his will. He wasn't asleep. He was awake, even if life felt blurred, he had will and he knew if he could do anything to spite the other him, this would be the chance. So he tried to respond.

He tried, he really did.

But no words came. Not even a simple yes or no. It was like his vocal chords hand been cruelly ripped from his throat. Instead he turned to face Spock and McCoy, embarrassed that they had to see him this way, and nodded.

Spock seemed to realize something. "I cannot perform the mind meld unless you are rested. It is too unstable otherwise and could result in hazardous things."

Then a fear, unmistakable, horrific, present fear was everywhere. It was totally visible.

Jim began to shake. Don't make me go back there…please…oh god don't make me go back! Tears raked down his grimacing face.

Bones quickly put a defensive hand on his back and pulled him closer by him. "Spock, he's been having nightmares, how are we supposed to get him to sleep?"

"I do not favor this alternative for the captain's personal good, but I do believe you know exactly how we are to make him sleep." McCoy looked at Spock comprehendingly. He pursed his lips as he felt the half steady breath that was interfered with by the flow of tears in the captain's warm body. His friend shook in fright. He rubbed his shoulder a little bit to tell him he was still there. To reassure him.

"Spock, you can't be serious." They both knew they'd have to sedate him.

"I am completely serious doctor, and see no reason why you would think I would be joking." McCoy let out an invisible sigh.

"Well, we had better get a move on." He said, barely auditable to human ears, but perfectly well heard by those of a Vulcan.

All of the sudden, a cry…a painstaking, terrified cry came from Jim. It wasn't very loud, but it was scary enough to see him this way, to hear this…it was so real. Terribly real. And very chilling. It was a moan, like when a kid's about to break out in tears, not in anger, but in fear or sadness. It reverberated in Spock and McCoy's ear drums. This made the situation way more actual. Before it had just been another strange happening on the enterprise. Now it stopped. It had passed the point where it was another mission or adventure. It was a terrifying moment, this realization. And they needed to fix this.

"It's okay…Jim it's okay…" Bones was trying hard to hold back small tears of his own, good thing he held his ground. No one was going to see _him _cry. Spock sat down at the bed. Jim dug his head into Bones's chest. McCoy wrapped his other arm around his back. "We're going to fix this, we're going to fix you." He said quietly. Spock held the hypo. The kiss of death. The total betrayal, but absolutely necessary. All these sad, betraying feelings flooded over the doctor's body, and also, Spock shared this same feeling though he seldom showed it.

And as the Captain had so deeply trusted Bones and Spock to protect him from these dreams, he would be the one to send him back. To surrender him, give him up, give him away. To say, 'look nightmares! Here's our Captain! Do whatever you want to traumatize him!'

McCoy hesitantly took the hypo and carefully pricked it in to Jim's back. "I'm sorry." He whispered as the quiet hiss of the hypo flowed over the silence of the room.

….===…===…

Hope you liked that! Something terrible is brewing… Oh by the way, the spaghetti and penguins thing from the beginning was actually from a dream of mine…don't ask. I'm happy and so thankful for your kind reviews and I'll keep writing this. Please R&R as always, and live long and prosper!

Oh, one more thing, if you've ever listened to the song Fix You by cold play, that captures the emotion pretty well. And if you've ever read my aftermath of wrath of khan story, three minus one, that works even better! Now, I'll get back behind my keyboard…where I belong. *Sits in dark corner awkwardly.*


	8. The Mirror looked Back

That was it. Spock and I had condemned him to his nightmares. Locked him away. I feel so guilty and disgusting, my best friend who trusted me so much…but it needed to be done. If we want him back.

It's hard…no it's scary, to see him this way. And that even Spock seems scared, that's chilling. Makes my blood colder than his green ice water. I really want him back and I'm so happy he agreed to the mind meld, I just hope Spock really knows what he's doing.

Right now, we're watching over Jim, making sure he's okay. Making sure…well…that it was all just a dream. Right about now, I'm not even entirely sure it was just a vision if was if it was so real to Jim.

I'm sitting next to him, in fact he feel asleep sitting up, leaning against me. Feeling his heartbeat, it's nice to know he's still alive.

I start thinking about all the times he's decided to risk his life for his crew, given up his only chance of survival so we could live. There's not another man like Jim Kirk out there, and not one other man could ever replace him. So that's why we need to make him good as new.

Although I don't think forcing sleep is good.

And I don't think after this he'll ever be new.

His steady breaths are on my shoulder and I embrace him a little bit…and lean him back down in another position. He seems to try to resist this and I feel kind of regretful that I did that.

I cast a glance over to Spock. I feel like I'm learning more about him…and it took Jim's nightmares for that to happen. But for one of a handful of times, we're completely on the same page. Just as scared as one another.

Spock's staring at Jim's body, unnaturally asleep. We're both sharing the same question.

_What's happening inside the dream?_

The doctor and I have been sitting on this bed for approximately 5 minutes…I'm feeling many strange sensations that can only be blamed on my human blood. I believe they would be called agony, fear and blame.

I wish to force them back down as I usually do, although it does not seem correct in this circumstance.

When I feel friendship for the Captain, I feel ashamed. But at the moment, McCoy has been understanding to this and has decided not to take advantage of it in the manner he does, which is most irritating and although I would not choose to admit, does make me uneasy of allowing my human side to show through.

Although now I do not feel ashamed from the friendship, for I have set that aside. I am worried about the outcome of this situation and the captain's well being.

Emotions are a strange thing.

The brainwaves are apparent from my tricorder readings and are being transmitted, which can only be of negative impact.

But as the doctor and I sit and wait, the air almost seems to tense…which is illogical because air cannot become stiff…but it does certainly feel this way.

I remember holding on to Bones…the feel of other humanoid life. Knowing he and Spock were both okay right now. But then Spock asked if he could do a mind meld and the double me appeared and argued and I agreed. So he'd do the mind meld…and then he realized I hadn't slept.

I needed to sleep. I can recall the pained expression…no I can't. But I imagine it…across McCoy's face. Maybe even in Spock's brown eyes. The fear I'm feeling is intense. Excruciating. I don't want to go back…to that place…shudders are racking my body…

Suddenly I find myself falling.

Not falling like in Alice and wonderland, but falling mentally. Nothing makes sense all of the sudden. All logic and emotion I knew to be fact seems…inexistent. Clearly the two officers who are my best friends in the universe wouldn't fit in. All logic is upside down. All emotion is incorrect.

And there he is.

The other me.

He's taller than me – no, he's just entirely bigger than me. I am to him like what a hamster would be to a man. A small hamster. I could fit into his hand…which is worrying.

I don't see anyone else here…where ever 'here' is. The other me smirks. All of the sudden all my confidence, leadership and inspiration is drained. Like he took a lemon juicer and everything I favor about myself is gone. Lost.

Fear is what is left in it's place. Stinging, spreading fear. Everywhere. And I am afraid of him. The bigger me.

I remember he's not me. He only looks like me. Me…them…where the others are, I can only hope they're safe.

"Hello Jimmy." He smirks in an ugly, hate filled way.

Something inside of me wants to talk back, use my poise and argue, go against anything…rebel. But I can't. My heartbeat is so loud in my ears, I can't hear myself think. And I can't think of anything to say. And something controls what I feel. And what I feel is terror.

If you were about to go on the world's biggest roller coaster and at the end of the ride, you die. The adrenaline that pumps through your body in heaping masses, as you drop that empty feeling in the pit of your stomach, and the shock of at the end you realize this isn't a ride…this isn't a game…this is all too real…

"Very good, very good! I guess I underestimated your imagination, you're right about the roller coaster." He says suddenly. I want to ask why, but fear fills my throat, blocks the exit and brutally murders the thought. "Now you see Jimmy, this will be reality." He says, a grin spreading across his face. Licking his lips in a way…that looks ravenous. He looks hungry…in fact, starving. For what? For this to happen? For my agony, my fear?

All of the sudden, I see…this…tear –if that begins to describe it- in the space. We're in a white room that seems to have no dimensions, yet fact tells me it's a room. It's like there's a wall and something rips through it as easily as ripping apart a piece of paper.

It's this emptiness. Not blackness, emptiness. But wait…no it's not empty, its filled with…memories. My subconscious. All from my perspective. When were in that caste where they had Scotty and Sulu brainwashed and McCoy, Spock and I were chained up on a wall. When we were in triskelion and I had my back whipped, all those times on the bridge sharing jokes and concerns…

The other me stands up and rips it open more, I don't want him going in there. Those are my thoughts! My personal experiences! But that's…real. It seems real. The kind of real you can't feel in a dream. Then that must not be part of a dream.

I want to scream at him to get back. Away from it! Stop! I want to scream this but my throat is clogged with fear. Fear he might hurt me, fear he might hurt my crew, fear he might hurt my friends.

He steps through it and I want to shriek at him…I can't move. I'm paralyzed and can't overcome this terror that has engulfed my body. I want to yell for help but I'm stuck here. Alone. Not knowing what will happen. As the tear closes the real fear that I know is not coming from outside of me, the true, pure fear that generates from inside of me resonates everywhere.

And then I realize.

He didn't exit the dream.

He entered my reality.

…-…-

Sorry for the wait, been busy. If you have suggestions for where this should go, feel free to suggest! (Cause it's taking a long time to come up with stuff if it's not just on the spot, needing inspiration.) Hope you liked this last chapter, fun with POV.


	9. Escape to Reality

Jim can't wake up. He's rolling around in his bed, screaming the word 'no' over and over again. It pounds against the sensitive ears of a Vulcan and the drums of a Southern Doctor.

Then they hear their names. "Don't hurt them! Don't hurt Spock or Bones, please…please don't hurt them! Kill _me_! Don't hurt them! No!" And the pattern of No's is once again repeated. His voice is tearing away the silent air, ripping violently through it, thrashing like it's trapped in a box that it must escape from.

He must escape from this dream.

McCoy and Spock exchange their glances, sweat beading the doctor's brow. It has been about four hours of sitting there, watching pained expressions dance across the face of their dear friend.

Watching their friend in a secret world, suffering.

The hours were incredibly slow, but neither wanted to leave.

There had been other outbursts. Moans, whimpers…but this is the worst. And considering it involved the pair of officers it seems like it was most urgent and there is the most they could do to help.

McCoy leans in to shake him.

"It has not been the required time, Doctor." Spock said quietly, more as a reminder than as a hidden command.

"He's yelling for us. Spock, what's more important? I'm waking him up." Spock does not argue. He merely nods.

The hands of a surgeon, soft, steady and almost empathic, are laid on the shoulders of the captain. The shoulders quake, but with the touch they stop almost instantly.

But he still doesn't wake.

Trying again, he shakes a little harder. About six seconds after, the eyes of the captain are open.

"What was going…to hurt us?" Spock asked. It didn't come out mockingly or doubtingly. It came out like a genuine question, small stitches of fear attached, if that was possible for a Vulcan.

"He's coming…I don't want to lose you…" Jim's voice is quieter than the whisper of leaves, gently sending the air through the trees to the grass, where it had the smallest sound, but still sound.

His eyes flash from the Chief Medical officer to The science officer, and back again to the wall in front of him. "He's coming…I don't want to lose you…" he repeats again, even more soundless then the words before. '

"We're here. We'll always be here for you, Jim." McCoy's baby blue eyes are shining in the dim light in the room, dashed with concern and affection for his friend.

There is a silence as these words set in, but they are only words. Promises are like glass. So easily broken.

"Spock…can you do the mind meld now?" Bones asks, trying to exterminate the desperate note searching for a place in his voice.

"Four hours I am not sure is enough, but it seems I may have to take the risk." Spock said. If Spock was willing to risk something, it must be dire measures.

Spock and Jim meet eyes. Him and his first officer. One of his two closest friends in the universe is here. He will fix him. He will help him.

"Thank you…" Jim whispers.

Spock looks into his captain. Through the eyes, the window to the soul. The soul he will be entering. The Vulcan gently raises a hand and tenderly spreads it across his cheekbones, forehead and upper neck, ginger touch of a telepath connecting with something that is so dear to him.

Their eyes, one minute a window, the next moment an open gateway, and the one immediately after, a closed door. It's as if they are inside themselves, the look in the eye that is not present. In a different life time. A different dimension.

_A barren wasteland stretches out across infinity. It looks like a room. Almost. If the floor wasn't forever it might be, but this isn't a room. Because half of it is covered in the essence of emptiness of agony, half of it is lined with the familiar spirit of a captain. _

_ Where ever it is, there is a man by the name of Jim Kirk sitting in the dead center of it. Emotions, weighing heavier than the entire enterprise, hang in mid air above him. Grief. Pain. Anger. Sadness. Care. Guilt. And Fear. Intense, overwhelming fear_

"_Jim?" Spock asks, his voice reverberating from everywhere. But there is no sound. Him asking this is just a fact. _

"_Spock? Spock? You're here?" The man who was sitting in the center of this landscape seems to ask, searching around and joy – and concern._

"_Yes…I am here." He says, but again there is no mouth that this comes from, it simply is. "But I must see what it is that has been troubling your dreams."_

"_But he'll see you…Spock…he'll hurt you…I can't let him…" he seemed to say. But as their two minds combined, it was evident a part he would have liked to hide that made more guilt for the captain, was the part of him telling Spock he did want him to go in…the part that knew he wanted help…but it was so selfish._

"_I will proceed. I am sorry if this goes against your wishes captain…" he said this in a fully apologetic manner._

_The tear, where the other Kirk went, on the farthest side of the barren white room, is poorly stitched together. The presence that is Spock gently reopens it the slightest bit and can now see the dream._

_The thoughts and feelings of Jim flood into his head. Memories and emotions are transferred. And he knows why. He knows that Jim has seen his friends being hurt and almost killed. And understands. _

_The events in the dreams are vivid._

_Chekov, Sulu and Uhura choking._

_Scotty trapping him._

_And McCoy and himself mindless to…_

_To Jim. _

_But he knows this is not the captain. This is a duplicate. An evil other that appears like the captain. And the tensions that are spread across the room are so tight. The threads of emotion tying themselves from an unknown place inside the tear and wrapping…no, tangling his friend. They are visible and an echoing laughter that pounds on the ears of the Vulcan. They laughter that sounds like a demon, so hellish, horrific. But Jim hears it too. And he hears himself. _

_The knots tie themselves tighter._

_Spock, desperate to free his companion, opens up the gash in the wall more. And he sees something disturbing._

_Something that frightens you all the way down from your spine until every last bone is covered in frozen, frostbiting fear._

_He sees reality._

_And an ever distant figure that looks distinctly like the captain running off in to it._

Sorry for the wait – again. Hope you liked this chapter! It's getting juicy! PLEASE REVIEW!


	10. The Worst Realization

Spock and Jim have been in the same position for about a half an hour. I know I shouldn't be worried. Spock knows what he's doing, but each second feels like a lifetime, anxiety just seems to fill my bones to the brim.

I feel so helpless. That if something did happen I wouldn't be able to cure it. I might be a Doctor, but this is so much more.

The time keeps wearing away. Both of them, straight upright positions, like they were when they left, but that look in the eye like they're gone to somewhere else. Somewhere inside themselves. So deep, I don't think I could dig them back out.

All I can do is sit, wait and hope for the best.

Suddenly, the hand wipes away from Jim's face and the both seem to collapse.

Spock leans against the wall, blinks a few times in a look of confusion and quickly recovers his Vulcan neutral.

Jim falls back on to the pillow, head crashing into a soft plush. His eyes are wide open as he begins to moan as if he was still in the not so fine line between consciousness and sleep.

His face seems to cringe. It's not moaning, the noise he makes…it's like a cry. I get up and sit next to him almost instinctively and try to sit him up. It makes me feel scared to see him this way. My arm makes it's way around his back and I'm propping him up.

"Doctor, I have many things to discuss with you." Spock says. His voice seems a little strained, but just barely.

The comm. Unit makes noise and there's a voice that sounds like Chris, the head nurse, coming through.

"Will doctor McCoy please report to medical bay?" She asks.

I look back at Jim, seemingly in pain, see Spock, drained. I carefully take my arm back from around Jim and go over to the comm. and slam my fist into the button. "Chris, I'm doing something. Can't it wait?" I try to put on a more angry voice than an annoyed one.

"No, this is of a lot of importance. I think you should see this." She says, a weird nervousness lacing here tone.

I don't want to leave, I'm the only one who is currently competent and fully awake (if awake's the right word) in the room right now.

"Doctor, your duty is more important." Spock says, regaining his normal speak.

"Damn it Spock, I'm not going! Jim is…I don't even know! I don't care about duty! I'm staying here." I say, a silent 'Hmph' added at the end.

"Doctor, I realize you are concerned about the captain's condition, and so am I," he says over the groans of our friend. "I will take care of him while you are away. I would not like to make this task an order."

We meet eyes and I see what he's trying to say, and it shows respect he chose not to order it, and that makes me feel a little better. Although I'm still not swayed, but I know I need to go. "Alright, fine. I'll be in sickbay, McCoy out." I stab my finger to the button, irritated. "Spock, I'll come back here after so we can talk. For now…please…" I say and my voice is trailing off. _Take care of him._

"I will." He says in that voice, that ever knowing way Spock has of saying things.

I nod, take a quick look at my two closest friends, and leave without another word.

* * *

Sickbay. Where Helmsman Sulu, Ensign Chekov and Lt. Uhura lay on bio beds, on constant watch, each of them frightened by what had happened.

McCoy walked through the door. "Chris, what is it?" he called.

Christine Chappel came out, and lead him over to the beds with the officers lying on them.

"They all began to choke, all at the same time. Like they couldn't breathe." She said, turning to them to see if they had anything to add.

"It was like my lungs, zey could not open." Chekov said.

"Like my throat was closed off and shocks were sent through me." Sulu included.

"Like electric pulses all coming from my neck rang in my body." Uhura finished.

McCoy stared at them. "All at the same time?" He blinked at them.

"Yes." The nurse said. McCoy stared at her.

He shook his head.

"No idea…" he said, puzzlement spread out in overdose. "put them on respirators, check lung functions, bring up their last physicals and find out if there's a contagion that has anything to do with their blood cells."

Chappel nodded. "I don't get it."

"Neither do I." He said. Unsure of what else to do, he asked a few more questions. What was the sensation they felt? Did they feel hot or cold? What was the last thing they ate? He started to record it. It was tedious and mystifying. What could possibly trigger this?

After a few hours, Chappel told McCoy he could leave. "Thanks, Chris…" he said as he put down the PADD and left the room.

* * *

Returning to a familiar scene, McCoy sees Spock, sitting upright next to Jim in a desk chair. "Doctor McCoy, what was the medical emergency?"

"Weird. Very, very weird. But Spock, you go first. I need to hear what this was about." Bones walks over to the bed and sits at the foot of the bed. He doesn't necessarily think having this conversation in front of Jim is a good idea, but it seems wrong to leave him alone. Guilt would definitely flood his thoughts.

"Very well. I continued study to find that there had been more of these 'dream waves' and they have been centered here," he paused, "and three other highly concentrated places on the ship." McCoy nodded.

"Go on."

"In these nightmares, the captain has been having visions of…" he hesitated for a minute, very un-Spock like. He then turned to Jim. "May I share the events with the Doctor?" He asked kindly. A true friend would never violate a fact such as that. His friends are true as the sky is blue. Or the one on earth, at least.

Kirk nods. It's strange, Bones notes, that this whole time they have been talking about him in the third person, even though he's right there.

"The dreams consist of odd events. You and I being unthinking minions, Mr. Scott entrapping the captain, and Lt. Uhura, Mr. Sulu and Mr. Chekov all choking on air." Spock says without waver.

McCoy's eyes seem to bug out of his head a little and he tries to control an eyebrow begging to be raised. A cold, dry sweat coats his body.

"Spock?" he asks quietly.

"Yes doctor?"

"_That_ was the medical emergency."

* * *

Oh so very juicy! I'm getting into this! Please excuse my horrific editing, I can barely read through it because of the amount of time I have. Your reviews are helping lots! But…my soul is…*gasp* weakening…I might…die in…fangirlism…if you don't…*cough, cough*…give me…reviews!

Thanks for reading so far. I'm happy you're liking it, it'll be a LONG time before it's done. But I'm proud to say, I'm finished with chapter Ten! (that's what you just read, in case you weren't paying attention)


	11. Trapped Outside Your Mind

A long, gaping void of silence engulfed the room. It lasted for about a minute but that was longer than a five year mission.

"What did you say?" Kirk asked, jumping out of the pit of a pause. He heard what McCoy had said loud and clear. But it didn't register. No…no…he _was _coming…

Bones looked into those sad eyes, torn by misery and fear. He was such an idiot! Why did he say that? Say that this had happened, in front of Jim? The last thing he needed was more pressure, more pain, more fear…

The doctor didn't answer. He put his head in his hand, "Jim..." he didn't know how to say anything that wouldn't be upsetting. Admitted he shouldn't have said that might be insulting, but saying it again would be worse.

"Captain, we will leave the room, it will be brief." Spock said as he began to stand up.

"No…Spock," he managed, voice shaky as if all the confidence he usually had had been sucked out of him. "I want you two to stay here."

"Captain for your well being, we are going to speak in private."

"No, stay in here." His commanding tone was totally obliterated. It wasn't there. And yet, he squeaked, "Do I have to make that an order?"

Spock was thinking about reminding the captain he was unfit for duty and could not make it an order, but decided against it. He had never seen his Captain, no…his friend, in a state of such impotence.

"Jim, I really don't want you to have to hear this…" McCoy shook his head.

"Doctor, no matter what we are speaking of, it seems he will be the one to know eventually."  
Bones considered this.

"I still…I don't know…Jim do you really want to hear this?" he directly addressed the epitome of the question.

"Please." He whispers. McCoy and Spock both seem to realize something. The captain has been talking again. He barely said a word before the mind meld.

"Alright Jim." He nods solemnly. "That event with Uhura, Chekov and Sulu choking was the event that I was called in to look at."

"The three focused waves were like wise to have been aimed at them, by the unknown force." Spock concluded.

The ends were tied, and they all realized this.

"So what happens in my nightmare…" Jim's voice shrank to the size of an ant. It was a breath that was cast away in the air conditioning.

"Becomes…real." McCoy breathed, panic began to spread in his voice. "Oh my god…oh god…" he let out, unaware he was speaking. "Spock…Spock…what are we going to do?" he choked over the words. The Vulcan seemed to be the only competent person in the room right now.

Spock looked back at his friends.

"Panicking is unproductive. We need to find where these transmissions are coming from and quickly." He said finally. "Doctor, I will see you privately in my quarters and Captain…" he paused for a moment, and then realized he did not know what to do with Jim.

Leaving him alone seemed unprofessional and cruel, taking him with was straight out illogical because he would become even more incompetent with fear, and sedating him might just end up hurting or even dare he say, kill them.

"You will be confined to your quarters." Spock said, a quiet note of regret ringing softly in his voice.

McCoy wanted to argue that seemed harsh…but there was no better way. But then he was afraid his friend would fall asleep.

"Doctor." Spock motioned him to come outside and Bones obediently followed with a look back at Jim, suffering in fear.

They left the room and stepped in to the Doctor's quarters that was conveniently placed very near to the captain's room,

"Spock…his nightmares are coming true. What if…" he voice was getting that panicky undertake once again.

"Doctor, we must work swiftly and find out where the rays are coming from."

"Wait, Spock, what was the order of events in the dream?"

"The event with Uhura, Chekov and Sulu, then mister Scott, and then you and I." Spock reminded.

"Then we need to confine Scotty. And that will be our time warning."

"I will have that done. That leaves an open spot, but Mr. Scott is the only man besides ourselves equipped with the knowledge to create the tracking device."

McCoy considered this. "So what do you think?"

"I think we should place heavy guard on him, but have him continue to help. That will be more efficient." Spock said.

"Should we tell him? Or Chekov, Uhura or Sulu?"

"No. That may be a violation and lead to undue alarm."

"Alright…but what do we do with Jim?" this was the question played though the ever growing fear in his mind. What happens to Jim?

"Continue to have him confined to his quarters." Spock concluded with surety.

Bones shook his head. "Your right - but it doesn't seem right…"

"There is nothing else we can do at this moment."

"He's in pain and scared out of his wits!" McCoy argued to no particular point.

"Doctor, we must get to work now. Before it happens." Spock didn't want to refer to the stream of events.

The things McCoy didn't know were how horrific it all was.

In the dream, both of them had no will. No, they had will. But it was locked away beyond un-operable doors that no key could override. Except for one key. The one held by the ringmaster.

The ringmaster that dangled it in from of Jim's face. But what did he want? What did this other him want?

I don't think you can understand what it means to have this kind of terrible sick fear ringing through your veins if you've never had the experience of a nightmare that everything is real. Actually, I doubt you can understand this if you're not James Tiberius Kirk. Which I believe you are not.

I will try to explain in the best terms that someone who is not James T. Kirk will understand. Imagine…imagine that your two dearest, closest people on the face of this planet, the two people who know more about you than you do about yourself, are standing in front of you.

These people bring you up when you are down.

These people make your world spin around.

These people are the people you would never, could never, ever, ever, forgive yourself if they got hurt.

And here you are, sitting as if shackled to the floor, trapped in a cage, while another you – another person who is not you – watches them and treats them like pets. They are servants. Slaves.

They bend knees and tend to this other man's will and word, crave their every whim, to serve. This is the vibe that resonates off them. The cold obsession for reason to live. Their reason is to serve.

But these are not servants. These are your friends. These are your companions. The people who you'd give the world and the universe and you're very soul for…and it hurts to see them like this. Defenseless. Mindless.

Everything they are seems gone.

And when you are trapped in a world of fear and helplessness for them in a dream that seems real it's terrible.

But when you're chained to a reality where you can't even escape to your dreams for help, and everything in that nightmare stops being just a fantasy of the mind, it's surreal.

….

You can't understand how sorry I am for the wait. I'm buried in work and haven't gotten to writing. I hope you like this chapter, because I find it sloppily written.

Trying to write more, please review! It's going to get good really quick!


	12. Terribly Helpless

I'm sorry, I'm not going to be able to update this frequently. But I will try!

"Dammit Spock! That was the wrong compound!" McCoy yelled as he picked up a blue vial full of quark sufficient material.

"I assure you doctor, it was not." Spock said, calmly as ever, even though tensions were running so high.

"Yes it was! You were supposed to mix the –"

"Doctor, I am aware of the quark compound being mixed with the neutron enriched molecular compound."

McCoy growled. "It's wrong…" he said, checking the labels to prove his point. He was mistaken, Spock, as always, had correctly performed the task. The Vulcan raised a know-it-all eyebrow.

"Listen you pointed eared Vulcan, don't act all smart with me!"

"I am not, doctor. I find it confusing why you would have reacted so strongly."

"Strongly? Strongly? Jim's mentally unstable, we have no idea how much time we have before…whatever it is comes, and to top it all off, you're acting like a smart aleck!" Bones yelled furiously. His face bubbled with anger and high strung tensions and lack of sleep.

Spock stared at him in mild alarm because of this reaction to such a small thing. Even for McCoy, this was abnormal to act this boldly. But when fear entered him, it exited as fury and rage. What was more alarming to Spock than the outburst was that his incredibly sturdy friend was full of fright.

Spock tried to stop his voice of monotone and normal and decided to be a little more delicate with this. The last thing he would want to do was disturb the only other person in the galaxy who would understand Jim's condition as much as he.

"Doctor," he said, his voice barely seasoned with concern, but it was enough to taste. "I realize you are worried about the Captain, as am I. But if we are to work efficiently, we need to trust each other's actions." He turned to McCoy, seeming to seethe, but as soon as Spock began speaking in this tone, his face seemed to simmer down and cool off.

Bones looked into those brown eyes. Those worldly, knowing, assuring eyes, and he shook his head, eyebrows like an upside down V. "I'm…I'm sorry, Spock."

There was a suitable silence.

"Security to sickbay, Mr. Scott has been banging on the door, requesting to see captain-" All of the sudden there was a tear. A tear not like paper. Or fabric. Or even wood. It was like the tear of human flesh. Being torn apart at the seems. A terrible, gory, horrific sound that made both McCoy and Spock cringe. Then everything around them, the floors, the walls, the ceiling, the instruments, the desk…everything except for them was simply…gone.

It wasn't white. It wasn't black. It wasn't any color. It was just nothing. Nothing. Not grey, just nothing. Cold chills, like something that froze your blood to icicles and frosted your spine like the world on Christmas eve was breathing in the air.

"_They grow hungry! We shall attempt now!" _a voice of a being unlike anything they had ever heard before rang out from all corners of the space that did not have corners.

"_I tell you it is too rushed, my lord!"_

"_The __Agriol'v'tu will have ours if we do not finish this task! The two friends he has are already in our grasp and we must continue to store their emotion as well as the prospect human male's reaction!"_

_ "__But my lord, I have not contemplated the full occurring sequence!" _

_ "Oh, but I have. It shall be different then the petty sequence you put as the finality code in the Primary Human Male's head. The __Agriol'v'tu shall not wait much longer for their reaping. And it shall be the largest harvest ever!__"_

This voice seemed to paralyze them. It snapped into both of their heads that this was the unknown force. These…beings with their obsession of extracting something. Reaction and emotion? Human fear? Possibly. But that was all the thinking Dr. McCoy's mind would allow. Terror, the inexplicable frozen feeling that was glued to his body made it impossible to move mentally or physically.

A scary thing about this situation was that this was no dream. There were no distortions, they were full height an proportion. They had all their senses, no blurring vision or touch like in your subconscious. Everything was totally real.

Then the nothingness snapped into something. Something vast, forever, unforgiving, alone. Standing in this space you were alone.

That was how both Spock and McCoy felt, even when they were standing next to each other, almost leaning in towards each other…

Spock doesn't really feels alone often. His emotions are controlled and his own thoughts provide company to his logic. Occasionally when emotional matters seem to occur, he does feel alone. In fact, stone cold alone. There is no one he feels is safe to talk to. Not even Jim. But it's as if these feelings are stronger, his emotions weighing like weights, even though he does not feel anything but concern and terrible, great fear envelopes his thoughts and his logic fails him as he is in a strange aloneness.

McCoy seems like he's surrounded by a void, a void of nothing. A nothing that is unfamiliar to him and resents and is terrified of it. A bone freezing seclusion seems to wrap this place like a blanket without the warmth an the only thing reassuring is that Spock is there with him. But this nothing is invading his thoughts. Slowly, his mind feels like it is being crowded and split in half. Half of it blank and obedient, the other is all of himself crammed into a space far too small an he cannot escape the room his mind is being locked into.

Spock also feels the similar sensation.

It's as if half of their brains are becoming misted, dull and obsessed with a purpose, a reason, a command. Wanting it, craving it, but the commands the rest of your brain (which is stored in a much too small compartment in your mind) that is truly you don't register. And they are suddenly not in control.

And before they can at least try to speak to each other, they see Jim.

He's grinning, ear to ear, hair absolutely perfect, wave in front, his golden brown strands in order. He's sitting in a tall chair and appears large and full of confidence. But something's off about his face. A devilish complexion, something never found on the captain's face, stretches subtly across his features. This can't be him. It wouldn't make sense.

"Hello my pets," the grin seems to broaden and looks like it will tear the rest of his face off because it's so big. "Come, sit." He beckons Spock and McCoy.

Bones is outraged he would talk to them in such a manner an was about to yell …but his lips failed him. They stuck tightly to each other. He could not open them or udder a sound. Fear struck one of the split sides of his mind. He could not will his own body to move. The only thing he seemed to have control over was breathing, and he wasn't even sure he could hold his breath if he tried.

Then both he and Spock began moving, against their wills, over to the evil looking Kirk. Something was terribly wrong, not just that their bodies were being manipulated, something was wrong with the captain. This was not Jim.

After, as if it was not torture enough to lose control of their beings, they sat down at his feet, like a dog would. Rear on the ground, legs flexed with hands in front. It was demeaning, angering and petrifying that this was happening.

They both wanted to yell out, or at least protest this treatment. But their mouths would not permit it. It was like on platonus, when neither had control…it was horrifying.

"Come out, Jimmy Boy." That was the signifier that this certainly wasn't Kirk. This was an alternate him. The final stage of the dream was unfolding an they were helpless to it. "Come play with your friends."

A cage, dragged out on it's own, came out from behind the chair, a true captain behind bars. "Spock…Bones…" he whispered.

This was the captain. Sadly, his eyes were streaked of the lack of sleep, face blotted and red, shaking. Tears began to gather in his eyes as he waited for a response. Jim didn't cry. But this was certainly Jim.

"Come, play with your new toys."

Hope you liked that, I'm trying to finish this in a few chapters, so not to lose interest. Kind of creepy, going to get very weird in the next chapter. Suggestions and reviews are strongly wished for! Super sorry for not writing in so long.


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